


Who knows what the night will bring?

by SeptemberSilver



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, I spent way too long on this, I told myself I was just going to write a cute drabble with no angst and look at this mess, Other, Post-Game, Reader and Sans have been friends for a while, Reader has no specific gender, depressed reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeptemberSilver/pseuds/SeptemberSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've been struggling with depression, and on a particularly hard night you decide to reach out to Sans, who decides to take you to the beach in the middle of the night.</p><p>(I suck at summaries but read the thing)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who knows what the night will bring?

You can see your alarm clock shining its fluorescent green light obnoxiously from the corner of your eye. It's close enough for you to turn it around without having to reach too much, but your arm feels like it's being weighed down by a thousand bricks. You have no energy, but still you cannot sleep. 

Your phone buzzes, shining even more light into your already burning eyes (it's just light, why does it feel like acid?), and you manage a minuscule roll of your head just to check the screen. Is it—? It is. (He doesn't take long to reply, does he?)

"isn't it too late for you to be awake, kiddo?"

You're not really a kid, and three in the morning (is it already that time??) isn't exactly too late for someone of your age to be up, but given you haven't slept in quite a few nights and you really would like to rest...

"I can't sleep."

You stare at the screen even after you send the message, because really, what else are you going to do? Actually fall asleep? You gave up on that a while ago. You guess it doesn't really matter whether you fall asleep or not. You have nothing to do today, tomorrow, whatever you want to call it. In theory.

"you worried about something?"

You don't think you have the capacity to worry about anything anymore. Or rather, anxiety's just become such a part of your life that you let it course through your constantly, as natural as air through your lungs, not letting it motivate you to actually do anything.

"No—" (Or should I tell him the truth? No, that is the truth.) "It's not important."

"i dunno what kinda bonehead you think i am—

(you groan at the totally unoriginal pun)

"but people don't usually start cryptic text conversations late at night without needing something. unless that's some kinda weirdo human custom."

You try and think of something to say in reply, but your brain won't seem to function. No thoughts run through your head. The silence in the room is suddenly deafening.

You do need help. (But how could you ask that from someone? "Help me" doesn't cut it, because nobody cares anyway and even if they did, they could never help you. Your life was just destined to turn to shit, to be meaningless, to be... is that your phone again?)

"you've been spending a helluvalotta time cooped up at your place. heck, you haven't even hit me or pap up in forever."

"I'm sorry. I've been really tired lately."

"i think you need a good night out."

"What? Do you know how late it is??"

"oh, now you're admitting its late."

"It's not too late to be sitting in your room, it's too late to go out and do... whatever you're planning on doing."

"you don't wanna go out. i get that. but it's my job to get you breathing some fresh air once in a blue moon. i'm coming over with pap's car, and you'd better be ready to get going when i get there, capiche?"

"You still don't have your own?"

"the bike works fine. just didn't think it'd be comfy trying to fit the two of us on there."

You really don't want to go out. Really, really. But it is Sans. And Sans... at least he makes you feel something. Sometimes that something is grief, because you're convinced he could never care about someone as disgusting as you, but something is better than nothing, right?

You reach out blindly with your arm to try and find the light switch, and even when it flicks on you can barely make yourself get out of bed. You simply lie there, staring off into space, thinking of nothing...

A loud knocking on the window brings you back to your senses (how long did you space out for, exactly?) and you finally get up, going over and glaring at him

"I was trying to sleep," you mouth, and he just laughs and makes a motion to show that you should open the window. You roll your eyes but comply anyway. 

"Not even dressed yet?" Sans grins. You stare down at your shirt and shorts, and shrug. 

"You haven't even told me where we're going, Sans. How am I supposed to dress accordingly?"

"I'm just kidding, sweetheart, you look fine, and where we're going you won't need any more clothing than that."

Your heart leaps into your throat for a second, before it sinks just as fast. Before you get the chance to say anything and embarrass yourself, Sans interjects: "We're going to the beach!"

"At this time of night??"

"It's gonna be great! I go there sometimes when it's dark and I need to be away from my bro, thought maybe you might wanna try it."

You know it sounds like it could be fun, especially with Sans... but you don't know if you have the will to. Before you can think about it any further, he reaches up to grab at your hands and pull them. "Come on, jump!"

"I can't—I can't—"

Sans looks at you seriously, still holding your hands. "Do you really not want to go?" 

You stare at him, and then close your eyes. "I don't mind, honestly." And with that, you hoist yourself up onto the window ledge, and drop onto the grass below. 

Once you feel the cool, dewey grass under your feet, you turn to look at Sans again. "Let's go, the wheels are over there."

He ambles down to the car and you follow, watching from behind as he swings open the passenger door and throws an empty pizza boxes and a bunch of CD cases onto the back seat. "Get comfy, kiddo."

You get in and close the door. For a few seconds, you're alone in the car, and a small wave of loneliness washes over you again before Sans wrenches the other door open and plops down in the driver's seat. He switches on the radio and immediately turns it up to the highest volume, blasting you with...whatever that noise is. You quickly turn it down just as he begins to speed off.

"HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE TO GET THERE?" you shout, trying to be heard above the music as he puts the volume back up.

"ONLY HALF AN HOUR OR SOMETHING, I KNOW A SHORTCUT!"

As if on cue, he suddenly makes a sharp turn down a street you haven't really noticed before, you guys flying over a speed bump. You make a face as your stomach twists.

"What, you don't like the music?" Sans smirks. "Feel free to change it, if you want." 

You roll your eyes, but go through a few channels anyway until you find your favourite upbeat song. The joy of finding a song you know and love on the radio actually makes you smile a little, if only because you feel like it's sort of obligatory to be grateful about that sort of thing. You hum along a little despite yourself, and Sans joins in with a loud and raspy voice, barely paying attention to how he's driving. His enthusiasm is kind of catching, so you bob along, and you two bounce in your seats to the music while you're speeding along the road. 

After a few more songs come up, he seems to sober up somewhat. Not like he's driving any slower (you begin to wonder how responsible or competent a driver he actually is, since you don't remember him being very concerned with his driving classes), but he's just less animated than before.

"Are you tired, Sans?" 

He turns to look at you. "I should be asking you that question."

"You don't have to go drive me around trying to make me have fun. You should be getting your own rest, don't you have a job to do tomorrow?"

"I'm doing this because I want to," Sans says slowly, "and because I know I wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway. And who the fuck cares about tomorrow, right? I'm just going to stand there, handing out soggy buns and fries to screaming kids and their tired moms."

"I take it you're not looking for a future in fast food, then."

"No kidding." A pause, and then, "Honestly, I don't really know what the future holds for me."

You're both silent after that, until you reach a small gravelly parking square. Sans struggles with the car to try and park straight in the lines, until he just gives up and leaves it where it is, saying, "Nobody's gonna come around here anyway." Before he gets out of the car, he hands you a flashlight and adds, "It's gonna be too dark to see once we get in the water, so here."

"Does this one actually have batteries in it?"

"Maybe," Sans winks as he dumps his jacket in the back. He gets out of the car before going around and and opening the door for you. His hand reaches out to help you out of the car, but when you grab onto his bony hand and lean on it, he pulls it away, leaving you stumbling. You glare, and he just chuckles mildly. Your face softens when you realize he doesn't seem to be as obsessed with pulling jokes as he usually is today. (He's just doing it out of habit, you suppose.) 

"Follow me," he says, and turns to go down a small path covered by a small layer of sand. You follow him until you finally get a full view of the beach. 

 

The night sky is midnight blue, coloured by thousands of glittering stars. The beach is basking in the silver glow of the moon. Sans ambles along the beach in front of you, giving you a little space, but he pauses for a second to check that you're not too far behind him. You can feel yourself grinning. It's like you've finally let go of your worries, if only for a second—a short, glorious second.

"Race you to the water!!" Sans calls out, and starts running before you can even shout back anything in reply. You run anyway, feeling the wind blow through through your hair. The air smells fresh and invigorating. The beach is so vast you feel like you could run forever, and you close your eyes to enjoy the joy that seems to have been missing for so long.

You hear a triumphant "I WIN!" from in front of you, and you look towards the ocean to see him already knee deep in the water. It doesn't take you long to catch up with him, running through the water as fast as you can. The water's a good temperature, only cold enough to give you a little extra zest. 

Sans disappears under the water for a second. You raise your eyebrow quizzically, and then Sans grabs your waist and bursts out of the water, practically tossing you into the air.

"Hey!" you squeak. "What are you—"

"GEEEEEEEET-"

He then drops you back in the water.

"—DUNKED ONNNNNN!"

You emerge spluttering from the water and lunge at him, trying to get him under the water too, but he just laughs and dodges you. You two scuffle playfully for a minute before you get too tired and opt to float idly in the water instead.

"Wanna go for a swim?"

"I'm not going to race you again."

"Buzzkill. But nah, I didn't wanna race again either. Just wanted to catch up here where it's warmer."

"Warmer than on the beach?"

"Well yeah, now that we're all wet."

"But it's dark—"

"You've got a torch for a reason, y'know. Hey, actually, hand it over. I can tug you along and you can lie on your back. The water stings your eyes, right?"

"Yeah, it does. You're lucky skeletons don't have them, they're a pain."

You give him the torch and float up on your back as he begins to pull you along. The minutes tick by as you stare up into the night, feeling his gentle but bony fingers around your wrist. Soon, though, clouds begin to cover the sky, blocking the light as well as your view. And as silence slowly creeps back into the air without Sans's lazy drawl to colour it, you feel your stomach start to sink again. 

(I should've known that feeling of freedom wouldn't last, you think. No matter what I do, I'll always be weighed down by this feeling. I was a fool to think I could ever—")

Then Sans stops. "Uh, Houston, we have a problem."

"Hmm?"

"The light's gone out." 

You feel a flash of panic, and stop floating to face Sans, only being able to tell where he is by the pale moonlight reflecting off his skull. "What?? I thought—oh God, how are we going to get back on the beach? Do you know which way we came from?"

It begins to rain a little, which doesn't help your unease.

"Hey, if worst comes to worst, we're just gonna be here for another hour or something until the sun rise. You don't mind being stuck with me that much, do you?" His tone is joking, but he still sounds concerned. 

You begin to shiver a little from the cold, since your body isn't heated up by the excitement of your little escapade anymore. "Cold?"

"It's fine, Sans."

He pulls you close to his chest anyway, as if he actually had any body heat to give off. It may be more of an attempt at comforting you than warming you, though.

"You haven't been fine." His voice is quiet, barely audible along with the sound of the rain and the waves.

"Really, I—"

"Don't lie to me."

Sans's tone turns serious, which makes you break away and look into his hollow eye sockets. "I've seen how you've been acting," he continues. "You're quieter, you're always tired, and you act like you don't care about nothin."

"I don't want to talk about it. And I do care. About you, and Papyrus. I just can't show it sometimes."

"You'd never know it. Pap was really bummed the other day, you know. He's missed you a lot, since you stopped talking to everyone."

(Does he think you're isolating myself on purpose? Is he angry that you've made his brother feel bad, is that what this is about?) "I know I shouldn't be distant, okay? I'm sorry if I've been a terrible friend. I can't control it. I didn't choose to be like this—"

"You don't need to explain yourself." "I know what it feels like, aight? I do. Maybe I should've talked to you bout it sooner, but I didn't want you to think I was... intruding, or whatever. I was waitin for you to come to me first, but then you didn't, and you were getting more and more distant and I got worried."

"I don't want you to worry. But you can't help me, you know. I've tried, everybody else has tried..."

"I'm not trying to fix you!" The waves are becoming more choppy, and you're both beginning to bob up and down as the rain pours down more. 

"What are you trying to do, then?" you snap. "Give me a lecture? Act like you know all the answers?"

"No! I just think, if you just let me in, let Pap in—"

"You're going to tell me I need to get out more, aren't you? Or that I should do more exercise. That's why you brought me out here, isn't it? To teach me that I just need to, I dunno, "look on the bright side". I can't do it, okay?"

"It's fine for you to feel defensive. I'm sure other people who don't really know anything about what's going on have spewed their shit at you, expecting you to listen, but I just wanted you to know that—"

You don't get to hear the end of his sentence. A massive wave comes crashing down on you, pushing you underneath the water and even more into darkness. You kick as hard as you can, fighting against the forces that seem to want to drag you into the depths of despair. Your lungs begin to burn. Your muscles hurt too, after tensing from the panic, trying to propel you closer to whichever directions seems like up in this strange, dark void.

You finally manage to burst your head above the water, but your unease doesn't go away. The rain is still pouring down on your face, making it difficult to open your eyes, and even when you do, you don't see Sans.

"SANS?" you yell, as loud as you can. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

You're lost, out in the middle of the fucking ocean. A wave crashes into you again, this time from the side, tossing you like a ragdoll off to the left. As you continue to get jolted around, you feel yourself almost beginning to cry with sheer frustration and fear, like you've broken through some kind of invisible feelings dam and it's beginning to all flow out at once. Your face scrunches up, ready for the tears to come.

"Hey, kiddo, don't cry!"

Relief floods through you. "You're here! Oh, you're here, you're here..."

"Some storm, huh?" he chuckles nervously. "You went under for a second there, and then whoosh! I was swept off. Nearly bashed my head on a rock, I did."

Words failing you, you cling to him, thankful beyond relief that he's there and safe.

He wraps his arms around you in return, cradling your head with one hand. "Hey, don't worry, I gotcha." 

You both get hit by another wave, but this time you thankfully don't separate. You do, however, get knocked into a large rock jutting out of the ocean. Your feet scrape against some more sharp stones, so you guess this may be a rocky patch. Sans lets go of you for a second to grab onto the largest rock, then pulls you onto it with him.

Once you feel relatively secure and you think you could hear each other over the rain without having to shout, you slowly begin to try and say something. "Hey... look, I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I guess you just didn't get what I was trying to say."

You turn to look at him. "You didn't really get a chance to finish."

"You think I'm trying to say that you should try harder, or that I'm going to try and fix you. That's not my intention, kid. I just wanted to let you know I understand. You know... back when I was down underground, I didn't do nothing. Why? I was afraid of a reset. Of the fact I may not be around to enjoy the good things. An existential crisis, I heard it's called. Why do anything when, in the end, it all means nothing? You and I, we could die tomorrow."

You nod.

"Even when I'm up here and not down there," Sans says, "I feel I've been wasting my life and I can't stop myself from being lazy... but then again, is the worth of your life only determined by how much work you do? There are other ways to contribute to life than to be a cookie-cutter become-a-doctor type."

He takes your hand as he continues. "Like you, kid. You make me feel a little better every time I see you, just by being alive. When you have the energy, you're the best and kindest friend I could ever ask for, but now you're stuck in a rut and it's my turn to help you. And..."

You tilt your head.

"I don't wanna just be your friend anymore, either."

He brushes his teeth against your lips in a strange kind of kiss, gently nudging your head closer to his with his hand while the other rests on your waist. When he pulls away from you, you're blushing. He rubs the back of his head bashfully, waiting for you to say something.

"I'm sorry I was aggressive earlier," you murmur after a long pause. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"I don't mind. Just... be more honest with me about how you're feeling in the future, won't you? Tell me when you're not feeling okay. Be honest. I'll be over with a load of the worst puns you've ever heard or a movie or anything you want. And if you want time alone, tell me that too. I don't want... I don't want to have to worry that you don't want to talk to Pap or I anymore. I thought we'd done something wrong, that you realised that I really liked you and that it scared you away, or that I was too much of a fucking failure for you."

"Never, Sans," you say as you bring your forehead to rest on his. "I... I really like you too. I never wanted to push you away or anything like that, I promise."

"I believe you. Whatever's going on right now, whatever happens in the future, I'll help you deal with it, okay? I'll be there. Always."

"I'd like that," you smile, and the two of you close your eyes, your hands entwined and your foreheads still pressed together. 

When the rain dies down almost completely, you look up again. The sun is only just beginning to rise, just enough for you to see that the beach isn't... really that far away. Sans notices you looking and laughs. 

"Let's get back to the car and get you dried off."

The two of you swim to shore together, you with your head above the water, and he gives you a piggyback ride up to your parking spot. In the golden light of a new morning, you begin to feel a little more hopeful for the future than you did yesterday. It feels good. It feels a little like... determination.

You fall asleep on the drive home, curled up in Sans's jacket.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt on otpprompts.tumblr.com (I didn't totally follow it, but meh):
> 
> Imagine your OTP going for a late-night swim (bonus points if they’re skinny-dipping) in a lake. However, their flashlights go out, leaving them stranded on a rock in the middle of the lake with no idea which way the shore is. They wind up spending the whole night having random, deep conversations that help them get to know each other much better, only for the sun to rise several hours later and for them to realize they were ten feet away from the shore. (Bonus points if Person C is the one who finds them at dawn with their clothes in their hands)
> 
> Also, you can find me on Tumblr if you want, under the username asrieldreemuffin :) Send me a prompt for Undertale and I might write it!!


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